#love her but shes so often drawn like this

[mitsouya]

[xazse]

Female!Reader × HybridPuppy!Yuji

The reader produces breast milk , which she expresses and donates to a shelter for small hybrids. HybridPuppy!Yuji often hugs her and presses himself against her chest to inhale the smell of milk, which makes his mouth water and his cock hard. In the end, he can't resist and begs his mistress to let him suck her milk. Or he sneaks into her bedroom at night and drinks her milk while she sleeps.

Instead of Yuji, you can have Satoru if you want to change the character

Notes: I love this so fucking much, I made a few changes I hope you don’t mind and I’m using Satoru btw because I don’t write for minors.

Pairings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x LactatingFem!Reader

Warnings: I’m sorry but I’m warning ya now this is some nasty shit but a good nasty if ur into this! + Smut + Lactation + hybrids + reader has big boobs + possessive!Satoru + perv!Satoru + porn with plot + notproofread + bathroom sex + I think I spent too much time on plot and not enough porn sorry!

You love visiting the shelter near your house, it’s just a ten minute walk of you enjoying the scenery and speaking to the townspeople, they always greet you with the warmest smiles because they know you, they’ve known you for years.

In fact everyone here knows you: a widowed mother and wife, a mother whose children have been moved on to pursue their own hopes and dreams so in your little warm house it’s just you. You’ve noticed for a while a void in your heart, the loneliness does get to you some days but not today.

Recently a facility had been built, a hybrid facility, at first you hadn’t ever thought those existed because under new law hybrids are allowed to coexist around regular humans, they are to be treated as such it was a long time coming, it hurt your heart to see them being treated as outcasts.

You learned that this facility was for the young, abandoned and on occasion they’d take in adults who still couldn’t find their place.

And in that place you finally found your calling. for some odd reason you and your doctor couldn’t place you were still weirdly lactating, it was exhausting having sore breasts and an endless supply of milk you’d have to pour down the drain: too embarrassed to donate it in fear of being found out in the small town of people.

You awake up with full boobs that needed to be emptied or you’d spend the entire day in pain, pumping the milk was the only way, you’d only have to do it once a day but the sheer amount could keep a baby feed for the entire day.

You’d been talking to one of the workers of the facility and they’d been explaining how the young ones weren’t exactly taking well to the supplied formula milk, “they’d cry constantly” he exclaimed and it broke your heart into pieces the thought of them not eating hurts you, for the very first time you confided in the worker and he didn’t look disgusted not one bit in fact he seemed overjoyed.

“Disgusted? Why would I feel that way? This means the little ones will eat and not throw fits.” When he finishes that sentence a long drawn out sigh leaves his lips. You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips.

Suguru you learn comes by your house to pick up the supplements and does he have some comments, he had waited a week to see how much you would produce.

“All this?!” You stand in your doorway shyly nodding in his presence, he’s actually appalled you weren’t lying when you said you have a good bit, he shakes the box in his hands and listens carefully, it’s hard for you to watch him do that right in front of you and not get a little flustered.

He thanks you graciously and makes his way back to the facility, you really hope they like it, it was one hell of a week for you. Though the feeling you did something good swarms you with warmth.

After that it was found that they absolutely loved your milk, and you had plenty to give, it was so cute the way Suguru described their reactions and how priceless it was. One little one had whined for more: Yuji was a special character he required a bit more milk since he was malnourished, Suguru couldn’t stop describing how he would not let go of the bottle, his grip was not going to let up easily, he looked so genuinely happy describing his work and how much he enjoys this field.

You break out of your thoughts and make your way to the facility, it’s downright gorgeous garden greeting you before the glass doors, smelling so good greets you just as warmly, you open the door and offer your greetings to the staff, Suguru had told you on the phone that the little ones had been particularly needy and needed some attention, attention they couldn’t provide right at the moment so they called you: they always do.

They’re way more comfortable with you, always asking when you’re coming back and on occasion they’ll beg you to stay a little longer with them, cute little faces decorated in tears to trick you.

Right now you’re relaxing on the mat in the playroom whilst they all run around chasing after one another, Nobara: a little lion hybrid is trying her hardest to doze off on your lap, she can’t with all the loud children playing like it’s their last day ever. You slowly and softly rub her short locs to lull her, it’s working until Yuji: a tiger hybrid ever the energetic thing is crawling to come bother her.

With Megumi: a wolf hybrid, and basically his other half following right behind him quietly.

Nobara seems unphased by the tiger trying to bother her, simply shooing him away so she can get her beauty sleep, that sentence makes you giggle, you continue to watch the threes antics without saying a word, a show with no production is how they act together.

Yuji sees your hands rubbing Nobaras ears and he’s immediately making his way towards your soft fingers, basically forcing you to rub his orange striped ears, this doesn’t make Nobara happy and she tries to shove him away; whining for your attention again.

You know how they get if you aren’t showing them equal parts attention so now both of your hands are preoccupied, Megumi doesn’t seem to mind, simply sitting and watching on.

You hear his voice before you even see him, he’s definitely running through the halls disrupting the staff, he’s yelling your name so loud that you know its Satoru and how eager he is, you know how eager puppy hybrids can be.

When he pops his head into the playroom the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen, he quickly makes his way over to you ignoring the little growls the babies give him, he’s pushing them aside against your protest and laying in your lap. The grip he has around your waist allows for him to fully envelope himself in your breasts.

“Missed you’s much” he playfully whines.

“You seen me yesterday Toru.”

Satoru lets out a satisfied sigh in the warmth of your boobs, he’s become obsessed with you, and it’s bad he’s had to he reprimanded by Suguru and the other staff multiple times for his possessiveness it’s not his fault though! He can’t control how he feels about you not after that day.

It was when he was feeding Megumi, sometimes as a way to bond Suguru will have Satoru bottle feed them, though he absolutely dreads it, he has to put up with it, all the other adult hybrids are far too hard headed.

He was curious one day, about how the milk had tasted, he found out through Suguru that the formula had been changed to breast milk, it was a slip of the tongue but he himself had also noticed how they whined for more.

He unscrewed the top to the bottle, the little calm Megumi was already drifting off so he wasn’t a problem.

He took a sip, and quickly pulled away: fully expecting it to be the worst thing he’s ever tried: it’s baby food not food meant for him but that feeling on his tongue never came in fact it was actually quite good.

Another sip and another after that; he scarfed the remains of the bottle down with a flushed face, it tassted like- well he couldn’t describe it but he knew he fucking loved it. He found himself sneaking into where it was kept and taking some for himself, it was almost an everyday thing, he knew when Suguru was questioning and bothering him he had to stop but he couldn’t, until he met the source of where the milk was coming from.

He snuggles his face deeper, ignoring and zoning out the loud noises around him, he can smell the milk on your breasts, you recently pumped? Probably this morning to be exact as and all he can think about is how you sat there for hours getting rid of the awful feeling in your sore breasts.

You feel something hard against your leg, you know how Satoru feels about you but this is too much. You’ve already had to tell him in the past that he’s much too young for you and would be better off finding someone who can fit his needs, he insists that he only wants you and doesn’t care about the age difference.

You have yet to bring up these feelings to Suguru though, you can’t bring yourself to say because what if Satoru won’t trust you anymore, it was hard building trust with the man due to his past experiences.

He’s only getting more excited by the minute, his tail moving in slow languid motions.

The way he’s looking up at you is filled with nothing but love and lust, you know that look too well.

You aren’t sure why you’re in a bathroom stall with Toru whilst he feels you up, caressing your boobs, every attempt to tell him to stop dies on your tongue when he rubs a sore area, your breath hitching in your throat when he grinds his hard cock on you.

Such a needy puppy he is, whining under his breath words that you can’t quite decipher especially with how heated you’re getting, your mind getting foggier by the minute as you let Satoru get his fill of you.

He rips apart your blouse and carelessly throws it on the floor, along with your bra next. Your nipples are exposed to the cold air of the facility and Satoru is reveling in it. He paws at your heavy boobs with rough calloused hands that are uncoordinated, squeezing the fat in his hand until he sees what he wants.

The droplets of your milk finally coming to fruition, he licks one nipple and you think you can see him visibly shake with excitement, he filts that nipple in his mouth and suckles, after a good minute he ceases his constant unconscious movements and readily focuses on the sweet milk cascading down his throat.

A moan breaks free from your trembling lips, this feels nothing like the machine you have at home, this feels so fucking good it alone has your cunt throbbing in your panties, the swirling of his tongue and just how content he looks is driving you mad.

You slip into that space that you know is bad for you, your voice is for some reason egging Satoru on, calling him all sorts of names that entice him to suck harder. Your hands don’t listen to you either because you’re rubbing the front of his pants in soft motions.

His whimpers don’t go unnoticed, nor does his swishing tail, such a good boy you tell him, losing all sense of rational he drags you with him to sit on the toilet, you don’t expect the amount of strength he has for being so lanky but he manages it.

He goes right back to sucking on your fat breasts that still replenish his appetite.

You let Satoru strip you of your bottoms and your panties, you let him slip his cock inside of you when you know you shouldn’t, he isn’t big but he fucks constant, always hitting that good spot inside of you based off your reactions.

He looks disheveled and messy, his face red and his mouth dripping with drool and remnants of your milk.

You let him bend you any which way he sees fit in that stall, an overexcited hybrid means it’s going to take a while to exhaust them, though you feel tired after having an orgasm you’ve never experienced he isn’t done, he’s cum multiple times, filled your cunt with his leaky cum he still isn’t done yet.

When he’s got you in his lap leaning on him for support he’s nonstop talking about what you and him will do from here, he talks about how he wants a family of his own and how you’ll be such a perfect mommy to his little ones.

[suguru-getos]

Genshin Impact Men on New Years:

Characters Included: Kinich, Ororon, Capitano <3

-> oh whooo is she? 👀 yes yes it’s me. I just wanna write on the new genshin babies and i’m so looking forward to it after finishing the Natlan archon quest. Genre: Fluff

-> Kinich:

Normally, the saurian hunter wasn’t someone you’d ever see as your boyfriend. But surprisingly so, Kinish rose up the ranks in your heart. Even Ajaw is… less mean to you. You know that because whenever you visit the Scions of the canopy, you’re greeted fairly by Ajaw & it shocks the others. It’s been a few months since you & Kinich have been together. Today, on the New years eve, he doesn’t want to miss the golden chance of spending more time with you.

Be prepared with a table full of delicious feast, prepared by him & his friends. He takes you out in a special spot where the stars are a little more visible & where you can hear how his heart soars when he sees you. “I wanted to tell you something.” He hums, watching your face glisten under the moonlight sun. “Kinich, it’s almost New Years, you sure we should’ve left everyone else and come here?” You chuckle, eyes beaming in joy. He loves you so much. He is always the sensible one, why then, when its you, that his heart loses. Unfair.

“I wanted to share our New Years kiss in peace.” He hums, pulling you close by the waist, wrapping his hands around your body & brushing his lips with yours. The feeling sends jolts and tingles down your spine. The sound of his heart racing quickly masked with the cheers of people in a distance. “Oh— would you look at that. I kissed you for an entire year.” He winked. Dork. :3 you love him so bad <3

-> Ororon:

Honestly, you never knew that someone as emo-looking as Ororon would ever become your boyfriend. You were new in Natlan & Citlali was one of the few people you were friendly to, Ororon calling her, Grand ma was hilarious. Until you knew why. Eventually, you noticed he brings his fresh produce for everyone who he’s fond of. Until, one of these days it was you. A stock of cabbages, freshly grown by Ororon, a beaming grin on his face as he hums, “Y/N, I have brought something for you.” He smiles. You often wonder why you’re so drawn to his child-like, almost innocent smile & the way he just wants to please you all the time. “You know that’s way too many cabbages for a single person, right?” You chuckle, snorting as he pouts cutely. “Well, yeah, but I just wanted to dedicate this produce to my crush & eventually, hopefully, er- my future girlfriend.”

Oh smooth. He did make you feel a tingle in your heart & he did make you feel like you were seen and heard after a long while. After Natlan was saved by the Archon, you & Ororon decided to take a trip to your homeland, to Sumeru. You settled in Puspa cafe with him, countdowning for the New Years together. “I am glad you decided to come to Sumeru with me.” You purred as he kisses your forehead. “I am glad that you brought me with you.” You chuckled, holding his hand and count downing together.

“Three, two…” and when the clock changed, you kissed Ororon, and he smiled. He has been wanting to say this to you but waited for this exact same moment. “I love you, Y/N.” He hums, catching you by surprise. “What?” Before you could smile and reply, he leaned in and kissed your neck briefly. “I really love you.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. You chuckled, how cute- “I love you too, Ororon.”

-> Capitano:

The embrace of Capitano, big & warm despite the pain & grief he continuously carried. “I missed you, my love.” He brushes against your hair, kissing below your neck. He loved cuddles with you, loved the way your body nudged against him. His body, being the perfect big plushie for you to hug. “I missed you too.” You purred, when you first saw this man, he was the Fatui Harbinger that made Everyone cower. He was famous for being as strong as Archons themselves. For a man of that stature to bring you a bouquet of roses everyday after work as long as you’re in Snezhnaya? Unreal.

“I have formulated some new years plans, my love.” He suggests, taking you by a pleasant surprise. “Hmm, what? You are always couped up by work, and I am often not in Snezhnaya; when else would we spend time?” He croons, the big, dangerous & sexy man famous in all of the Nations in Tevyat is planning a date. Hehe, how adorable, you think.

“What is the date plan?” You turn to straddle his lap instead, nuzzling against his chest. He smells different, smells like rugged leather & rum. You can’t quite put a finger on it, but you love it.

And he does make extravagant date plans, but your New Year’s Eve together is a little different. Capitano decided to cook for you. He made all the Snezhnayan dishes, some very own of his, belonging to Khan’ria. You were delighted that he can be so domesticated and so kind. Enjoying a fulfilling dinner on his lap, hearing stories that you’re sure makes his heart bloom… it’s enchantingly relaxing.

And when the clock strucks into the next year, you can’t help but be happily indulged in the process of falling in love with him, all over again. Dancing with him & kissing him lovingly. Tenderly.

[amourquinn]

𝐀𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 ; quinn hughes

chapter one

「 author’s note 」 the first chapter is a throwback!!

↤ prologue - next chapter ↦

2020, BARCELONA

Marc sat in the living room, his elbow propped on the armrest of the couch, his chin resting on his hand. The television flickered in front of him, muted, but he wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts were elsewhere, heavy with concern for his daughter. The Camila he knew—the vibrant, lively young girl who filled their home with laughter—was a shadow of herself now. Ever since she had returned from Michigan, she had locked herself away in her room, only emerging when absolutely necessary. And even then, her presence was fleeting.

Valeria entered the room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She paused when she saw Marc’s distant expression and sat beside him, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“¿Qué pasa, amor?” she asked softly, tilting her head to meet his gaze. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

Marc let out a heavy sigh. “It’s Camila. I’m worried about her, Valeria. She’s been in her room all day again. She barely eats. She barely talks. I don’t know how to help her.”

Valeria nodded slowly, her lips pressed together in a tight line. She had been watching their daughter retreat further into herself since their return to Barcelona. At first, she thought it was just the shock of the breakup, but weeks had passed, and Camila’s sadness had not lessened. If anything, it seemed to grow heavier with time.

“lo sé,” Valeria said gently. “She’s hurting, Marc. The breakup with Quinn… it’s not something she’s handling well. But she’s so young. She doesn’t know how to process all of this.”

Marc leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t want to lose her to this sadness. She’s barely herself anymore. I tried talking to her, but she just shuts me out. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

Valeria sat quietly for a moment, thinking. Then, she stood up with purpose, her expression soft but determined. ���Hablaré con ella. But first, I’ll make her something to eat. Maybe a warm meal will help her open up.”

Marc nodded, grateful for his wife’s unshakable intuition when it came to their family. “Thank you, my dear.”

She gave him a small smile and headed toward the kitchen. In moments like this, Valeria knew that actions often spoke louder than words. Her daughter needed comfort, not lectures. And nothing brought comfort like food made with love.

Valeria moved quickly, preparing a comforting meal: sopa de fideos, a simple Spanish noodle soup that always reminded her of home. As the warm aroma of simmering broth filled the kitchen, Valeria felt a spark of hope. Maybe this small gesture could begin to ease the weight pressing on her daughter’s heart.

When the soup was ready, Valeria ladled it into a bowl and placed it on a tray alongside a small plate of sliced bread. She carried the tray down the hall, pausing outside Camila’s room. The door was closed, as it always was these days. Valeria knocked softly.

“Camila, soy mamá,” she called gently. “Can I come in?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Valeria thought she wouldn’t get an answer. But then, a faint voice came from the other side. “Come in.”

Valeria pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly shut. Camila was curled up on the bed, her back against the headboard, wearing an oversized hoodie that swallowed her small frame. Her hair was unbrushed, her eyes red and tired. A laptop sat beside her, forgotten.

“Hola, mi amor,” Valeria said softly, her heart aching at the sight of her daughter. She placed the tray on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. “I made you some sopa de fideos.”

Camila glanced at the tray but didn’t move. “Thanks, mamá,” she said quietly, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

Valeria reached out to brush a strand of hair from Camila’s face. “You haven’t eaten much lately, mija. You need to take care of yourself. Even if you’re feeling sad, your body still needs you to be kind to it.”

Camila lowered her gaze, her fingers picking at the edge of her hoodie. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Valeria sighed softly and moved closer, placing a comforting hand on her daughter’s knee. “Camila, I know you’re going through a lot right now. And I know the breakup with Quinn has been hard for you. Pero quiero que sepas algo, mi niña—you are not alone. We’re here for you. I’m here for you.”

Camila’s lip trembled, and tears welled in her eyes. “I feel like I ruined everything, mamá. Quinn was so good to me, and I just… I let him go. I pushed him away. What if I made the biggest mistake of my life?”

Valeria’s eyes softened, and she pulled Camila into a gentle hug. “Ay, mi amor, no digas eso. You made the decision you thought was right for you at the time. That doesn’t make you a bad person. Relationships are complicated, and sometimes, even love isn’t enough to make things work.”

��But I still love him,” Camila admitted, her voice breaking. “And now it’s too late. I can’t take it back. I can’t fix it.”

Valeria pulled back to look into her daughter’s eyes, her hands resting on Camila’s shoulders. “Escúchame, Camila. Life isn’t about looking back and wondering ‘what if.’ It’s about moving forward, even when it’s hard. You have to forgive yourself, mija. Holding on to guilt will only weigh you down.”

Camila nodded slowly, her tears spilling over as she leaned back into her mother’s embrace. For a long moment, they sat in silence, the only sound the faint hum of the house around them.

After a while, Valeria spoke again, her tone lighter. “You know, Isabel called earlier. She and some of the family are coming over for dinner tonight. I thought it might be nice to have everyone together. And guess what I’m making?”

Camila pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes. “What?”

“Seafood paella,” Valeria said with a small smile. “Your favorite.”

A flicker of light returned to Camila’s face, and for the first time in weeks, she smiled—just a little, but it was there. “Really?”

“Sí, really,” Valeria said, her voice teasing. “I thought it might cheer you up a little. You’ve always loved it when we make paella together, remember?”

Camila nodded, the memory of family dinners and laughter filling her mind. “Thanks, mamá.”

Valeria cupped her daughter’s cheek, her thumb brushing away the remnants of her tears. “That’s my girl. Now, eat some soup, take a shower, and get ready to see everyone. Poco a poco, mija. One step at a time.”

Camila gave another small nod, her heart feeling just a little lighter. As her mother left the room, she looked at the bowl of soup on the tray. It wasn’t just food—it was love, warmth, and hope, served in the simplest way.

For a moment, she felt like she could take a breath. Maybe the road to healing wouldn’t be so impossible after all. Maybe, just maybe, she could find her way back to herself.

And for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe it.

⋆˙⟡

The warm afternoon sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the backyard. The faint hum of conversation and laughter drifted from the patio, where family members gathered, enjoying Valeria’s cooking. The earlier tension that had clouded the house seemed to have lifted, replaced by a soothing sense of togetherness.

Camila sat on the edge of the pool, her feet submerged in the cool water, watching Isabel swim a lazy lap. Her childhood best friend had arrived earlier that evening with her usual boundless energy, enveloping Camila in a tight hug the moment she walked through the door. The embrace had been a balm for Camila’s weary heart, a reminder that there were people who still saw her, who still cared.

“¡Vamos, Mila!” Isabel called, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t just sit there. Get in!”

Camila rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. Isabel always had a way of lightening her mood, even when she didn’t feel like smiling. “I just got in five minutes ago, Isa. Give me a break.”

“You call that swimming?” Isabel teased, pulling herself up to sit beside Camila. Her dark curls were dripping wet, and her cheeks were flushed from the heat. “I thought you’d have more stamina after living in the U.S. for so long.”

Camila gave her a playful shove, laughing softly. It felt good to laugh, even if it was just for a moment. “I didn’t spend all my time swimming in Michigan, you know.”

“No?” Isabel asked, her tone curious. “Then what did you do over there? You’ve barely told me anything since you got back.”

Camila hesitated, her smile faltering for a brief second. She had been so consumed by her emotions that she hadn’t even thought about catching up with Isabel. But now, sitting beside her oldest friend, the weight on her chest felt just a little lighter. Maybe it was time to share, to let someone in.

“Well,” Camila began, dipping her toes into the water. “I studied at the University of Michigan. That’s where I met most of my friends, and there was that one guy, Quinn.”

Isabel perked up at the mention of a name. “Quinn? Don’t tell me you’ve been keeping a secret boyfriend from me all this time.”

Camila let out a quiet laugh, though there was a bittersweet edge to it. “He’s… my ex, actually. We were together for a while.”

Isabel’s eyes widened, and she turned to face Camila fully, leaning forward with curiosity. “Ex? Espera, espera, start from the beginning. I need all the details. What was he like? How did you meet?”

Camila took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the rippling water in front of her. The memories of Quinn felt distant yet vivid, like a dream she couldn’t quite shake. “We met through some mutual friends at a lake house. He was—he is—an amazing guy. Kind, funny, hardworking. And he plays hockey, professionally. That was his whole world.”

Isabel whistled, impressed. “A hockey player, huh? Sounds dreamy. So what happened?”

Camila bit her lip, her heart squeezing at the question. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she could talk about it. But then she glanced at Isabel, who was watching her with genuine concern and interest. If there was anyone she could trust with this, it was Isabel.

“It just… didn’t work out,” Camila said softly, her voice tinged with regret. “We were young, and we weren’t there anymore. He was so focused on his career, and I didn’t know where I fit into all of that. I felt like I was holding him back. And he deserved someone who could support him fully, someone who wouldn’t feel… lost.”

Isabel frowned, her brows knitting together. “But what about you? What did you want?”

Camila looked down at her hands, her fingers trailing through the water. “I don’t know, Isa. Back then, I thought I was doing the right thing—for both of us. But now… now I wonder if I made a mistake. If maybe I should’ve fought harder for us.”

Isabel reached out and placed a comforting hand on Camila’s shoulder. “Mila, you can’t blame yourself for how things turned out. It sounds like you were trying to do what was best for both of you. And honestly? That takes a lot of strength.”

Camila nodded, though her chest still felt heavy. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice quieter. “He wasn’t just my boyfriend, Isa. He was my first… everything.”

Isabel’s brows lifted in understanding, and she didn’t say anything, letting Camila continue at her own pace.

“My first boyfriend. My first kiss. My first… time,” Camila admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly as she said the words. “He was the first person I ever really let in. And I trusted him with all of it. That’s what makes it so hard, Isa. Letting him go felt like letting go of a part of myself.”

Isabel’s expression softened, her teasing demeanor replaced by genuine care. “Oh, Camila… that’s a lot to process. No wonder it’s been so hard for you. But you know what? Your firsts don’t define you. They’re just part of your story. And even if Quinn was your first everything, that doesn’t mean he has to be your last.”

Camila smiled faintly, her heart warming at Isabel’s words. “Gracias, Isa. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” Isabel said, flashing her a bright grin. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, “But seriously, a professional hockey player? You’ve been holding out on me. Was he cute?”

Camila laughed, the sound genuine and light. “Yes, he was cute. Extremely cute.”

“lo sabía!” Isabel exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “And let me guess—he had that whole ‘brooding athlete’ vibe, right? Like, quiet but secretly sweet?”

Camila shook her head, still laughing. “Not exactly. He was more of the steady, dependable type. Always there when you needed him.”

Isabel sighed dramatically. “Ugh, why do all the good ones have to be in another country? You’ve ruined me, Mila. Now I’ll never settle for less.”

Camila rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

“Well,” Isabel said, standing up and stretching, “perfect or not, it sounds like he was important to you. And that’s what matters. But you know what else matters? Living your life, aquí y ahora. So how about we stop moping and actually swim? I didn’t come here to sit around!”

Camila laughed again, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. “Fine, fine. Let’s swim.”

The two of them dove into the pool, the cool water washing away the lingering heaviness in Camila’s chest. And as Isabel splashed her playfully, laughing and shouting, Camila realized something: maybe moving on didn’t mean forgetting. Maybe it just meant learning to carry the memories with grace.

For now, that was enough.

2020, MICHIGAN

The sound of skates slicing across ice echoed through the empty arena, accompanied by the rhythmic thud of a puck against the boards. Quinn weaved through the neutral zone with practiced ease, his movements sharp and deliberate, though his mind was elsewhere. Across the rink, Jack and Luke passed the puck back and forth, exchanging bursts of laughter as they tried to outmaneuver each other.

It was supposed to be a casual skate, just the three of them blowing off steam after weeks of busy schedules. But for Quinn, it felt more like a futile attempt to distract himself from the gnawing ache in his chest. No matter how many laps he skated or how many shots he took, his thoughts always circled back to her.

It had been weeks—months, really—since the breakup, but the pain lingered like a dull bruise. Every once in a while, it would flare up, sharp and insistent, reminding him of what he’d lost. Today was one of those days.

“Quinn!” Jack’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “You good?”

Quinn blinked, realizing he had drifted to a stop near the blue line, his stick resting idly on the ice. He forced a nod, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

Jack skated over, his younger brother’s sharp eyes scanning him with concern. “You’ve been ‘just thinking’ a lot lately.” he hesitated before asking. “Is this about Cam?”

Quinn sighed, taking off his hockey glove and raking a hand through his short hair. There was no point denying it. Jack had always been perceptive when it came to him, and besides, Camila had been on his mind constantly since the day they parted ways.

“It’s nothing,” Quinn said, his voice low. “Just… wondering how she’s doing.”

Jack tilted his head, leaning on his stick. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know. Luke and I can both tell you’ve been off since the breakup.”

As if on cue, Luke skated over, his expression curious. “What’s going on?”

“Quinn’s overthinking,” Jack supplied before Quinn could answer.

“I’m not overthinking,” Quinn muttered, though the weight in his chest said otherwise.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then what’s on your mind?”

Quinn hesitated, staring down at the ice. The breakup had been his decision as much as Camila’s. They both knew their priorities didn’t align—his relentless focus on hockey, her uncertainty about where she fit into his life. It had felt like the right choice at the time, but now, all he could think about was what might have been.

“I just keep wondering if I screwed up,” Quinn admitted finally. His voice was quiet, but the rawness in his tone made both of his brothers pause. “She deserved better than what I could give her. But… I don’t know. Maybe I should’ve tried harder. Maybe we could’ve made it work.”

Luke frowned, his brow furrowing. “You can’t beat yourself up over it, Quinn. If it wasn’t the right time, it wasn’t the right time.”

“Yeah,” Jack added, his tone more direct. “You both did what you thought was best. It’s not like you didn’t care about her.”

“I did care about her,” Quinn said, his voice heavy. “I still do.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the faint hum of the arena’s cooling system. Jack exchanged a glance with Luke before speaking again, his tone gentler this time. “Have you talked to her since? Like, at all?”

Quinn shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “No. I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Well,” Jack said carefully, “she updated me a few weeks ago.”

Quinn’s head snapped up, his heart thudding in his chest. “What did she say?”

Jack shrugged, trying to play it casual. “Just that she’s doing well. She’s reconnecting with her old friends and family. Sounds like she’s figuring things out.”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He could picture her in Spain so vividly—her sun-kissed skin, her laughter carried on the Mediterranean breeze. It was the kind of life she deserved, one full of color and adventure. “I’m glad she’s doing well,” he said quietly. “I hope she’s happy.”

“You really mean that?” Luke asked, tilting his head.

Quinn nodded, his gaze distant. “Of course I do. I mean, it hurts, but… I want the best for her. Always.”

Jack’s expression softened, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I miss her too, you know.”

Quinn turned to look at him, surprised by the admission. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “She’s one of my best friends, Quinn. You know that. It sucks that things didn’t work out between you two, but… I miss having her around.”

Luke nodded in agreement. “She was always fun to have around. Felt like part of the family.”

Quinn’s heart ached at their words. Camila hadn’t just been a part of his life—she’d become a part of theirs too. And now, her absence was felt in more ways than one. “I miss her too,” he admitted quietly. “More than I can even explain.”

Jack clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. “We all do. But she’s still out there, living her life, and I’m sure she still thinks about you, Q. Just because you’re not together doesn’t mean she’s forgotten you.”

Quinn nodded, though the weight in his chest didn’t ease. “Thanks, guys.”

Jack gave him a small smile. “Anytime.”

They skated for another hour, the familiar rhythm of the game helping to clear Quinn’s mind, if only temporarily.

⋆˙⟡

Later that night, after the arena lights had dimmed and the three of them had returned to the quiet of their home, the ache resurfaced.

Quinn lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the minutes ticked by. His phone sat on the nightstand, tantalizingly close. He tried to ignore the urge, but eventually, he gave in, reaching for it and opening Instagram.

He hadn’t looked at Camila’s profile since the breakup. It felt too raw, too close. But tonight, he couldn’t help himself. His thumb hovered over her name for a moment before he tapped it, bracing himself for the flood of emotions.

Her profile picture hadn’t changed—it was still the same radiant smile he remembered so well. But it was her most recent post that caught his attention. A photo of her at the beach, the sun setting behind her as she stood barefoot in the sand. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair tousled by the breeze, her expression serene.

Quinn’s heart ached as he stared at the image. She looked happy—truly happy—and he wanted to believe that was enough for him. But a small part of him couldn’t help wondering if she ever thought about him, if she missed him the way he missed her.

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. This was what he wanted for her, wasn’t it? A fresh start, a chance to chase her dreams without the weight of his career holding her back. She deserved all of it and more.

But still, as he set his phone down and turned off the light, the image of her lingered in his mind. And as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t shake the quiet hope that, somewhere in the depths of her heart, she still held a piece of him, too.

© amourquinn

[dvnieldraws]

wet cat dad and his strong protector daughter [q!missa & q!tallulah]

[majouartings]

My finished piece for Dottolus' Dotnomicon: Grimoire of Wonders! I was going for kind of a folk-magicky vibe with my one, heh. The zine is available for FREE on itch.io at the above link, so definitely definitely check that out. The full list of artists and writers involved in the project can be found here; they've all done absolutely incredible work on this, and it's been super inspiring getting to see them all do their thing, so be sure to check them out too! Thank you again to @dotzines for having me, I had a really great time working on this and I'm so excited to see the end result!

[seaweedstarshine]

You know that time in the comics when the Doctor is so depressed, he shuts off the lights, turns on an interrogation spotlight, locks himself in the console room, and argues with a bunch of judgmental shadow-figures resembling his past incarnations?

And all the TARDIS' lights go out and her interior becomes a maze to keep his companions out of the console room, all from her psychic connection with the Doctor (“moodbleed”)?

And his companions are left wandering in circles for two days as the air goes “stale,” not knowing where he is but thinking the worst, while he hallucinates in a dark room?

...because I'm thinking again about the times this definitely happened when he was with the Ponds.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Walking In Two Worlds & The Everlasting Road

YA sff set in the near future where an opensource augmented reality is commonly used like social media, and there’s also a completely virtual fantasy game version

follows an Anishinaabe girl who who’s the top player in the VR game, and is constantly fighting to keep her place against the misogynist neo-nazi group in second place

as well as her real life, dealing with being a shy and self-conscious teen growing up on the Rez, and her brother having cancer

and a Uyghur boy who’s moved to her community from China after finding acceptance in an online community (even when he doesn’t agree with their more extreme views) - but when he gets to know Bugz, he has to decide who truly deserves his loyalty

great mix of sff and culture, the future while also very real community traumas of the past (and present)

[website-com]

since pepper was asking for it something that girls do that always makes me think 'cool gender' is not change their names despite it being historically masculine and re-defining the name through their identity and relationship to it.

[royalreef]

(( As a kinda silly OOC thing: I like conceiving of Miranda (and her connections through the Merkingdom) as being an anti-OP muse.

As in, I like the thought of, the more OP someone or something else is, the worse of a time they have being able to do anything to Miranda. She is, very intentionally and within the logic of her own universe, designed to be able to handle those with extreme power and authority and to be able to undermine everything they can throw at her and counteract anything that they try to do.

She's already a royal, next in line to her throne! She has to be able to fully handle other people in similar positions without risking any damage to her own, and this is something that she's dealt with her entire life. She very much knows all the risks associated as a part of her job, her title, her entire reason for being born, and she's well-trained in the formal and informal methods of striking down anyone else who might even come close to a position to her own.

Which, of course, means that muses that very much aren't OP, that are just normal people or much closer to it, are much, much more capable of threatening Miranda and the Merkingdom both as a point of intention. This is something that I very much want and very much want to encourage. Especially because the reason this is such a problem is the way that the Merkingdom and, thus, Miranda, entirely overlook and ignore such threats and treat them like non-issues. The fact that most Merkingdom royals, upon actually encountering a landfolk, have a range of responses from discomfort to dismissal to ignorance, is one that is very purposeful here. The ones that they're most likely to pay attention to are the ones in the most danger, and the ones that they aren't likely to care very much about beyond petty malice and as another means to inflate their own egos. And, as it is, the ones they're most likely to pay attention to are those that have decided to pose a risk.

And it's a thing that I've been dealing with from the beginning too. From the start of this blog I was very bothered by the idea that some OP character would decide to singlehandedly "fix" or destroy the Merkingdom from a position of equal or greater authority. Which is not to say that I didn't want it to be changed or that there weren't ways to dismantle it. But rather, I wanted it to be more organic, and I wanted to deal with the actual question of how that even happens, and I wanted to ask the question of what could measurably improve this situation and Miranda's life both.

Which meant that, yeah, the more OP a muse is the more intentionally destined for failure they are, and the closer they approach "some guy", the more they'll be able to achieve. Which is not to say it won't be difficult or hard to do, or that there's not the possibility for failure (again, even at her most basic, Miranda is a macropredator that can easily maim someone, but more typical "normal" muses are more likely to possess caution and try to read her body language before pressing her), but the fact remains, very intentionally, that they are the only ones who will be able to do it.

[radlymona]

No one will ever understand the Criston/Alicent/Rhaeynra/Daemon love square like I do

[itspileofgoodthings]

rewatching four weddings and a funeral (2019) with Nina for the first time in a while and I am forced to admit that Maya is in fact often the most unlikable of the friend group and I understand why she and Kash’s storyline isn’t people’s favorites.

[c0rpsedemon]

one thing i'm trying to keep in mind while designing the cast of the resurrectionists is that they're all constantly changing clothes + ideally there will be ppl cosplaying these characters someday and i'd much rather see morana cosplays done in old btssb pieces that technically aren't things she wears than morana cosplays in cheap mass-produced versions of her canon outfits from aliexpress so i'm trying to make them all recognizable by a defining feature or two + fashion (sub)style alone

[drawnecromancy]

the moon for the oc meme please!!!

Eli.

Not sure why Tumblr decided to make the image so blurry ? :/

While those who are part of the Old Church of Aeteris are usually more closely associated with the Sun, Eli's first appearance in the short story The Companions of the Blue Forest is in the middle of the night. There's a silvery-white light, at the edges of a character's vision, at midnight in the middle of a swamp...

Here, let's translate the passage (this short story is in french) (also this passage for now literally only exists in the first draft; my second draft hasn't gotten here yet, i haven't worked on it in. so long).

"Alan was woken up by a repeated, regular sound, slowly approaching the camp. It sounded like a staff if it had been planted in the muddy soil of the swamp at the same speed one would walk. Through the fog, he could see a strange, silver glow around a silhouette that he couldn't yet quite parse.

[...]

When the silhouette was finally close enough, Alan stopped breathing for a second. Tall, with dark brown skin and incredibly long, cascading hair, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Incredibly, she was dressed in a long, flowy, ancient clerical robe, of a pure white despite her walking barefoot in a swamp. She was the one emitting that silvery-white light, like a forgotten spirit walking the earth.

Alan was seriously starting to think he was just dreaming."

Idk, she just feels very moon to me.

[baeshijima]

— within uncertainty

sunday reflects on his limited time thus far on the express, only to find himself distracted by a face he has unknowingly become fond of.

CONTAINS : 1.2k wc, gn!reader, astral express member!sunday, fluff

A/N : chat have we seen the lc and gameplay leaks…? throwing up.

When Sunday first arrived on the Astral Express, a miniature gold and crimson ticket attached to his apparel, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

A new start; that much he was sure of. But with these people who instilled a newfound hope and courage to face the future, there was no shadow of a doubt within his heart and soul that he would encounter the unexpected more times than he can keep track of.

Sure enough, the unexpected came in many ways.

For one, March 7th’s uncanny ability to look at the bright side of things appeared so natural to her, so easy and simple. In recent times, he has found himself thinking about situations in a more positive light, no doubt a side effect of having spent time with her bubbly self.

He discovered Dan Heng’s aloof demeanour barely concealed his great care and affection for the crew— the Astral Express family. Even with what seems to be passive quips and dead-eyed stares, Sunday has begun to note the differentiations in his tone and body language, and all the subtleties he only shows with them.

He discovered the Trailblazer was every bit of a jokester as they are courageous, often finding himself staring blankly at some of their… seamlessly timed quips, to put it lightly. Even so, he’s oftentimes caught himself mid-admiration when they take charge in what they believe is right, wondering if he, too, could be like them in that aspect.

He found that Welt, while still retaining the righteous and strong spirit he displayed while in penacony, had a rather unprecedented charm. Sitting down for hours on end listening to the elder ramble passionately about animating, the arts, and endless theories about this universe wasn’t something he had ever planned for, but his heart warmed all the same at the burst of energy.

He came to realise the Express’ Navigator, Himeko, was certainly a… character. Brave, wise and humble were what he would use to describe her, even more so after her warmly welcoming him into the family. However, Sunday realised he could do without that… concoction she dubs a coffee.

He also never realised such a creature existed until he met Pom-Pom, much less one being a sentient conductor. Their nags are backed with overflowing affection for the members of the Express, often displayed through the meticulous care taken in the tailored meals and rooms and experience. There is so much love of the Astral Express, and Sunday wouldn’t be surprised if he were told most of it came from the Conductor.

(Though he does recall being warned by Dan Heng in particular to not anger the Conductor, an experience he is both curious about but also content in not knowing what exactly would transpire.)

And then there is you.

Sunday only caught a glimpse of you during the final moments of the conflict, much like with Himeko, so he didn’t have too much to go off of other than the fact you, just as it seemed to come with being a part of the Astral Express, were brave and fought for what you believed in.

(With you in particular, he found himself unable to forget your gaze — how it held a sparkling resolution and commanded his full attention, completely and utterly drawn in.)

Of course, that’s not to say you don’t embody those aspects now that he’s gotten to know you. Rather, you are so much more than what he could have ever imagined.

“Wow… they’re way softer than they look!”

…In more ways than one.

Sunday doesn’t really know how this situation came to be. He was merely idling around the Express in search of something to pass the time until you took note of his predicament, swooping in like the graceful saviour you are (self-proclaimed by you).

Somehow, in some way, that brought you both to his room.

It’s times like these where Sunday wholeheartedly believes the most forward member of the Astral Express isn’t that racoon-like Trailblazer, but rather you instead.

Seriously. How are you not embarrassed by this… this compromising position you’re both in?! He can practically feel the radius in which the heat from his face permeates!

“Do you, like, have a care routine for them or something?” you ask while gently thumbing individual feathers, because obviously this is only affecting him and him alone. “I refuse to believe your wings are like this naturally.”

He knows he gave you permission to touch them, but it doesn’t change the fact his wings are still sensitive. Aeon knows what you would do with that information; well, assuming you haven’t already picked up on his reactions towards your… ministrations.

“I do have a routine. I go to great lengths pruning and trimming my feathers. More than that…” he trails off, opting to ignore your mumbled comment of “Wow… you’re just like a bird then…”. He coughs, averting his eyes from your intensely gentle gaze, raising a fist to cover his lips. “Are you this forward with everyone?”

You blink. Once, twice, thrice. Somehow, the action makes Sunday fluster even further.

A hum leaves you as your lips purse and your head tilts in thought. “Well, I wouldn’t say everyone, exactly. Just those I consider to be very close to me. Oh,” you begin, as though realising something, “does it bother you? I’m so sorry!”

No— wait— why are you apologising?

“I didn’t realise I was making you uncomfortable! Oh gosh, I did it again…!”

You make a move to scramble away from him. Is it your frantic and unfocused eyes, or perhaps this uncharacteristic side of your usual confident and unabashed self which makes his heart lurch?

“I’m so, so sorry! I’ll keep my distance from now on and—!”

He acts before he can think.

“No!”

There’s a surge of panic which shoots into him. It makes itself known in the raw strain of his voice, in the shaky wide-eyed stare at the thought of you leaving, in the trembling grip he has your arm in.

Really, Sunday doesn’t know what he’s panicking about. He just knows a part of himself would never forgive him for unintentionally pushing you away like this.

A gasp escapes him after a few tense seconds which felt much more like an eternity. With haste, Sunday tears his hand away from your arm. Despite that, he remains in close proximity to you, mustering the courage to look at you once more.

“I… I mean, no, you’re not making me uncomfortable.” Sunday prays you didn’t hear the stammer in his words. And, if you did, then he hopes you don’t bring it up. “If I were feeling as such, I would have told you outright.”

The silence is absolutely suffocating. Even so, Sunday doesn’t dare look away from your stunned expression, not even when he’s almost positive his face is about to melt off from the sheer heat radiating from him.

“Oh.” You blink, expression falling into that of neutrality. A nod of understanding is your next action; understanding of what? Sunday has no clue — he’s not sure he even wants to know. “So you’re that type, huh. I see now.”

Nevermind. Maybe he does.

“…What does that mean? Wait— [Name], come back here! Explain what ‘that type’ means! Are you listening?!”

Suffice to say, Sunday never received a verbal response from you. Only your cheeky grin before you left and a plethora of butterflies fluttering amok within his stomach are all that remains.

Yeah. Sunday didn’t know what to expect when joining the Astral Express; in fact, he still doesn’t know what to expect. Despite being thrown into the unknown, he finds himself thinking this situation to not be so bad after all.

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

[gojoest]

FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru

girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!

satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well

“come on, my life — say it”

satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—

“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.

this has been going on for the past few weeks.

your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.

“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”

lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”

okay, you shrugged and backed off.

and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.

after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)

but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.

it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...

all of a sudden,

the doorbell rings.

“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.

it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.

“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.

“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…

…at nanami.

a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…

she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.

she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—

“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.

silence in the kitchen befalls.

you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.

“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”

p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.